T.V. Tokyo
by Torimiko
Summary: A snowy night, a little television to nurse a sick rock star back to health, and to make Yuki see red. Technical problems solved, interview intact in this version!


Title: T.V. Tokyo  
Series: Gravitation  
Pairing: Shuichi x Yuki  
Note: Okay, I hope this is the final post! What happened   
last time is that I used carrots to bracket the interview   
so the computer thought I was writing HTML! Gomen.  
  
  
It was a quiet evening at the Yuki / Shindou   
household. Outside, snow was swirling down to the street   
in fat lazy flakes. Eiri half watched it from his seat   
on the sofa, one arm draped behind the backrest, as he   
kept one eye on the breathing of his sleeping prince.   
Shuichi head was still  
slightly warm with his fever, but Eiri knew Shu was going   
to be back to his normal self by tomorrow morning. All   
the boy had needed was a day tied to the couch with   
velvet ropes under blankets and a few stiff pots of tea.   
Eiri passed his hand over Shuichi's forehead and he   
stirred under his touch. Blinking his lavender eyes,   
Shuichi stretched, and then nestled back into Eiri's lap.  
  
"Nee, Yuki?" Shuichi laid his head back onto Eiri's   
shoulder. "Where's the remote?"  
  
Eiri looked around Shuichi's nest of manga, Tokyo   
Ichiban music magazines, and used tissues to find the   
Sony wand wedged between the cushions. He plopped it   
onto Shu's soft stomach. Eiri tried to tone out the   
sound of Shuichi randomly changing channels. This   
practice, he had observed on more than one occasion,   
could take any where from a few minutes, to consuming   
nonproductive hours. Shuichi would click through the 200   
plus cable channels, stopping to watch 15 minutes of one   
program before turning to something else during a   
commercial, where he would forget what he was watching in   
the first place. It annoyed Eiri, who liked his stories   
to have a beginning, middle, and end. If he wasn't so   
comfortable, his leg falling asleep under Shuichi's warm   
body, he would have hobbled off to the office and worked   
on the new novel proposal for his editor  
  
/"Tonight in our Art Corner we have the esteemed   
privilege of having best selling novelist, Yuki Eiri…"/  
At the sound of his name, Eiri looked up from his   
stupor to see what it was Shuichi was watching. It was   
Sanjou Reika, of TV Tokyo's entertainment special, and   
her very large head was filling the screen. Eiri felt   
irritation crawl up his throat on clawed feet.  
"Aho, turn the channel," said Eiri.   
Shuichi twisted around to stare at him with   
sparkling eyes. "But they're talking about Yuki!"  
Eiri realized a second before his own pixilated   
shadow appeared next to Sanjou on the stage that he had   
lost the battle to the boy. When TV Yuki walked out onto   
the stage, Shuichi squealed, "Yuki's on T.V!"  
/"Whose new novel, Lovers,"/ Sanjou continued, /"has   
made more in its first week than any other novel in the   
genre. Thank you very much for taking time out of your   
busy schedule to visit with us, Yuki-sama."/  
/"I'll do my best to be worthy of your time,"/ Eiri   
heard him self say with dry cordiality.  
Sitting in the living room, Eiri realized how   
different he had become in the year since Shuichi had   
move in. The man on the screen was Yuki, dry, formal and   
wearing his cynicism instead of a tie. He sat upright,   
with his legs cautiously crossed at the ankle so he would   
not crumple his Gucci suit, which was the flattering   
color of fall maple leaves. Sell the image of lady-killer   
to sell more books was the motto of his publicity team.   
Eiri pushed his glasses up with his middle finger and   
looked down at himself. After this stupid interview he   
had come straight home, shedding that suit like a   
reptilian skin, opting for blue jeans and a red dress   
shirt. Now here he was practically draped over the   
couch.   
"Odd, desu ne?" Eiri thought.  
He reach out to grab the remote from Shuichi's   
hands. It was at that time that Shuichi started to sit   
up on his elbows, one of which he planted down hard in   
Eiri's delicate crotch area.  
"Yuki!" Shu screamed and bolted towards the television   
set. Eiri slowly, painfully crumpled towards the floor,   
landing face down on the hard wood in a fetal position.  
"Shuichi..."he hissed between clenched teeth. "I will   
kill you for this."  
Looking up again, Eiri bristled as Shuichi blocked   
the Sony with his big head. As the interview was going   
on, Shu-chan was nuzzling Yuki's image on the set, cooing   
to himself. Eiri stifled a smile as Shuichi's hair   
started to stand on end with static electricity.  
"Baka! Shuichi, if you're going to watch this crap,   
at least sit where you can see it!"  
Shuichi scuttled up and sat above Eiri on the couch.   
Eiri dropped an arm over Shuichi's legs, flicking him   
lightly on across the knee, making him squirm.   
"Yuki looks so cool on television," Shuichi swooned   
over Eiri. "Now everyone can see you as I see you."  
"Most people who have see me as you have are women,"   
teased Eiri. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette.  
"That's not fair!"  
"Shush, your going to talk through the good part."  
Sanjou's fake face bowed politely, that stupid   
feminine grin hung there like that of the Cheshire cat.   
/"What would you say influences you to write? Many   
critics are saying that Lovers has the most touching   
romance and greatest psychological depth of any of your   
novels. Has anything happened in your life to bring out   
this new depth?"/  
The unlit cigarette fell from Eiri's mouth. She   
didn't cut this piece. The stupid bitch had promised to   
cut this out of the final aired piece after the   
interview. Eiri scanned the coffee table for the remote,   
but it wasn't there. Shifting, he grasped around   
underneath the couch cushion. Eiri then spotted saw it at   
Shuichi's other side, half sticking out from under his   
thigh.  
"Shit. Shui-chan, change the channel."  
"Hum, Shui-chan?" Shuichi looked up at Eiri,   
blushing at the previously unheard pet name, but   
something in Eiri's face told him there was something   
else going on. "Why?"  
From the television, Yuki's voice continued, /"I   
can't really say. After all, writers evolve with time, my   
style has changed with me," /  
The perky little reported flashed that damned smiled   
at Yuki. She could be getting ready to ask if he thought   
flowers were pretty, or something innate like that with   
that stupid little face.  
/"Is it true that you are living with the lead   
vocalist of the hit band, Bad Luck, Shindo Shuichi?"/  
"Move, baka! You're sitting on the remote!"  
Shuichi was smiling like a damn fool, "Wah! Now what   
will you do! Blush and stammer your love for me, 'Shuichi   
is my Koibito,' or just blow her off!" He rolled over   
onto the remote, totally blocking any chance that Eiri   
had to get it.  
/"I don't see a point in confirming what everyone   
already knows."/  
/"I was just thinking that the lead in Lovers, while   
remaining true to your heroines, still seems a little   
manly compared to your usual delicate flowers. Is Yukino   
some how based off of Shindo-san?"/  
Eiri dug his fingers underneath Shuichi, trying to   
raise him up by the ribs, but it was no good. Lifting up   
the boy's shirt, he bent down and nipped Shuichi's   
nipple, a weak spot. Shuichi sighed, but instead of   
arching his back he held his ground.  
/"This novel was written well before I met Shindo-  
san. I try to write in a manner that the reader can see a   
bit of themselves in all the characters and create their   
own interpretations,"/ and Yuki smiled.  
/"But, you two are sharing the same bed?"/  
Shuichi's eyes tore themselves away from the   
television and looked up at Eiri. Looking back at the   
T.V. Shuichi saw the difference in their expressions. On   
television, Yuki's expression froze to that Shuichi had   
seen often before, his mask for hiding his feelings. Cold   
yellow eyes piercing outward and a firm mouth. It was   
there in his face, the realization that this hadn't been   
a real interview about the book. The real Yuki, the Yuki   
now in this room, looked down at him, pleading for   
forgiveness.  
/"Actually, Shindo-san usually sleeps on the couch,   
except when were fucking, then yes, we share a bed,   
though I much prefer the kitchen table. I get much better   
leverage and it's easier clean up."/  
Shuichi's eyes widened with shock. It was usually   
Shuichi that made mistakes like this. Eiri let his arms   
go weak, and he fell on top of Shuichi, his head nuzzled   
in the crook of Shui-chan's neck.  
"Yuki?" Shuichi said, and pushed Yuki bangs tenderly   
away from his face. The writer's face was composed, his   
eyes closed shut, and lips slowly moving.   
"Baka, baka, baka," Eiri chanted. "You're rubbing   
off on me, saying such stupid things."  
Had he somehow ruined both of their careers in one   
foul swoop? He had done something that Tohma's pressmen   
could never do. He had talked about their sex life on   
T.V. Yuki Eiri had given the public what they wanted,   
dirty details about two of their stars. Now, they were   
no longer perfect.  
"Yuki..."Shuichi said with kindness in his voice. The   
boy heaved a sigh, running his fingers through Eiri's   
hair. "I don't remember ever fucking on the kitchen   
table. Who else are you seeing?!?"  
"Baka!" Eiri yelled in Shuichi's face, "I said it to   
piss that goading woman off! I'm calling my publicist   
right now and firing him. He promised this interview   
would never get out..."   
Eiri bolted up to his feet and stepped on something   
with a resounding crack. Looking down, he saw a thick   
black video case with the TV Tokyo's circular logo on it.  
As he picked it up, Eiri noticed a sticky note on the   
front cover. Yuki recognized the scrawling script as   
Tatsuha's own.  
"What the…" Eiri looked over at the television,   
then down. The VCR's LED flashed, "play" in capital   
letters. As he watched, the picture froze in place, right   
on Sanjou's big freaky face. Turning around, Eiri saw   
Shuichi smiling nervously, wiggling the remote between   
his fingers.  
It was a joke.  
Eiri rushed him, then pulled Shuichi up by the   
collar and pointed to the kitchen. "You, the table,   
now."  
After all, if the boy was well enough for jokes, he   
was well enough for other things. 


End file.
